


Fever Dreams

by Reesachan (Clymenestra)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic, Sick Fic, Sick Tony Stark, Vomit Mention, Whumptober, prompt: fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:58:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clymenestra/pseuds/Reesachan
Summary: Tony Stark did not believe in fevers.Fevers were something that happened to other people, not him. He didn’t have time for them. He had a full workload and he was behind as is.





	Fever Dreams

Tony Stark did not believe in fevers.

 

Fevers were something that happened to other people, not him. He didn’t have time for them. He had a full workload and he was behind as is. Pepper would kill him if they ended up having to postpone this new phone launch again. She’d shred him verbally and then stab him with one of those shoes she loved to wear.

 

Those were good shoes. Would Pepper enjoy it if he made her a pair of shoes with literal stiletto heels? That would be dead simple. And just think how much they could pay off during boring board meetings! Bet they’d be able to shave off a good half hour to hour on pure threats of violence alone. No need even to stab people for real and risk blood spatters on the paperwork. Pepper hated blood stains on her paperwork. She always came over all cranky and yelled at him the entire time she was fixing him up. And then bashed him over the head with the paperwork a few times to try and drive home the lesson. Something about work safety? He couldn’t remember. He probably should’ve been listening. Undoubtedly this would come back to haunt him in the future. He made a note to remember to ask Jarvis to review the security footage of the conversation once he was done with this project and ready to take a breather. And promptly forgot all about it.

 

What had he been thinking about? Shoes. He’d been thinking about Pepper’s great shoe collection. But what had led him to that, of all things?

 

Board meetings, stiletto heels...

 

Postponing the new phone launch (he glanced guiltily at an untouched project sitting behind him)...

 

Pepper murdering him for slacking off...

 

...oh right! Fevers!

 

Tony Stark did not believe in fevers.

 

Oh sure, he didn’t doubt other people when they talked about their illnesses, but those people weren’t Starks. Starks didn’t get sick. Stark men were iron. They had no time for whimpering about bellyaches or feeling overheated. They sucked it up and kept on marching. Too much to do, too little time, and too much indignity involved if one did indulge those trivial complaints.

 

Besides, fevers were hardly a verifiable and concrete form of illness. There was nothing to show for a fever. It’s not like throwing up. If you throw up, there’s proof that something is going on.

 

Of course, most of the times Tony had thrown up had more to do with alcohol poisoning than with physical illness. Tony had a lot of practice with throwing up. He could nail the inner bowl of the toilet from a standing position without even splashing up and making a mess, and he could walk out five minutes after, fix his clothes, and then head straight back to work again. No stress. Kind of uncomfortable and gross, but that was manageable. So he didn’t really have time for vomit, but he did at least acknowledge that nausea was a thing.

 

But fevers?

 

Fevers were ridiculous.

 

All you were doing was overheating! Menopausal people do that every day, and they get on just fine despite it. Certainly not worth coddling or making a fuss about it. Or take a sick day for.

 

Not that Tony had ever taken a sick day in his life. He knew in theory that those were things people did, but he was kind of fuzzy on the details of it all.

 

He supposed as an ex-CEO of a Fortune 500 company he ought to know these things, but he’d always seemed to delegate that stuff to Pepper. Pepper was a gift. She was magnificent - omniscient and able and willing to beat people with a shoe if that’s what it took to get the job done. She was born to rule. She more than deserved her position at Stark Industries, no matter what those misogynist fogies seemed to think at the time he handed over the reins to her. The company was thriving under her touch. Everyone under her purview profited. Hell, he’d give her more authority if he could, not less. Not just over his company, that was fait accompli, but over swathes of people who were suffering under less than benign leadership. She’d be brilliant at it. She was brilliant at everything. She was amazing.

 

Hell, he’d gift her control over the entire country if he could. She’d certainly do a better job than the current idiot in chief was. She’d probably mobilize the entire governing body and get them working together for the benefit of the people instead of constantly catering to lobbyists. She’d probably even manage it within the first year without breaking sweat. A few balls, maybe. She was pretty good at breaking those when needed. Good skill to have as a woman in a male-dominated profession. He loved watching her politely but thoroughly eviscerating people. As long as that ‘people’ wasn’t Tony Stark. She could be awfully intimidating when that glare was aimed in his general direction.

 

Which is why he needed to finish the phone. For the launch. Because Pepper had threatened to lock him out of his workshop for a month and make him work out of an open office, surrounded by entry level employees and having to share his equipment. If that wasn’t cruel and unusual punishment, he didn’t know what was.

 

Sharing tools. How barbaric. This wasn’t the ice age. This was a Fortune 500 company that specialized in breaking edge technology. Surely they could spare the funds to ensure that everyone had a full selection of all of the toys and equipment they might need for their position?

 

Cruel and unusual punishment. Not to be countenanced.

 

So he really needed to get this job done asap. He didn’t want to chance her following through on that threat. She had an awful annoying tendency to follow through on her threats if need be.

 

What was he working on again?

 

Oh, right, that new body armor to try and combat Clint’s annoying tendency to leap off of tall buildings with nothing between him and the cold, hard ground and no guarantees that someone might get there in time to prevent that imminent death.

 

Tony blamed Steve. Jumping without parachutes or safety lines seemed to be catching, and Tony didn’t like that plan one bit. He had a vested interest in these people’s ongoing safety and he did not appreciate their attempts to undermine him in this.

 

Maybe he should sic Pepper on them. She was pretty good at that kind of stuff. She might be able to get them to shape up.

 

And perhaps, while he was at it, he’d install sneaky automatic parachute deployment devices in Tweedledum and Tweedledumber’s suits so they’d have safety equipment on hand that didn’t rely on their ability to recognize life threatening situations and apply appropriate countermeasures. They could not be trusted to care for themselves safely. He’d need to make sure the parachute launcher was well disguised, though. He had the sneaking suspicion those two idiots would rip them out of their suits the moment his back was turned if they realized the launchers existed.

 

Tony shook his head in mild exasperation. Steve, at least, had the super serum to give him illusions of immortality. It was still stupid, but at least there was some logic behind the thought process (although Tony privately thought the suicidal streak predated the serum and might even be an unfortunately defining character trait; he shuddered at the thought of tiny ragdoll Steve Rogers jumping off of planes and 20 story buildings because he simply didn’t understand that physics happens and bodies go splat and squish.)

 

Clint, though?

 

Clint was 100% Grade A human. Deaf in one ear, major hearing loss in the other. Always covered in scrapes and bruises, frequently with bits that were strained or sprained or dislocated or broken on top of the more minor injuries. Completely and demonstratively breakable.

 

What right did a guy like that have to go around and fling himself off of skyscrapers like the sheer epitome of a death wish?

 

None, that’s what.

 

Tony refused to sit back and watch his friends willfully kill themselves. He had enough nightmares about their deaths as is. And he had a very… thorough and creative mind. The images it could conjure to torment him with were both vivid and horrifying and he had absolutely no intention of allowing them to take on a life of their own.

 

Especially the ones where he wasn’t good enough.

 

Where the team abandoned him.

 

Where he failed the team and they all died.

 

Where nothing he could do would ever be enough to win him their regard or to keep them safe.

 

Tony would work himself to the bone and beyond to prevent anything of the sort, even if it ended up killing him in the long run. It’d be worth it. They were worth it. They were worth ten of him.

 

Damn, his head hurt. Those sharp, spiky sensations behind his eyeball probably weren’t a good sign either, but Tony didn’t have time for this. There was no time, ever. Time was running out right in front of his eyes and every moment he delayed increased the likelihood that someone would die and it would be all his fault because he could have stopped this, he could have saved them.

 

He popped a couple of aspirins and kept going, shaking off the pain. He was an expert in pain. He’d spend years walking around with a giant hunk of metal inhabiting the space where ribs and lungs and heart were supposed to be located. He’d fought through that pain, day in and day out. He’d fought alien armies through that pain. And that wasn’t even talking about his experiences with blood poisoning. He could more than handle a headache. It took more than that to phase him.

 

“...sir. Sir?”

 

The music turned down and Tony almost staggered at the sudden cessation of auditory input. He shook his head and blinked.

 

“What’s up, J?”

 

“You appear to be in some distress, sir. As you have not been responding to my attempts to communicate with you and assess the state of your health and mental cognizance, I have taken the liberty of summoning Captain Rogers to provide you with assistance and care if you prove in need of it.”

 

Tony glared at the nearest sensor. “Traitor! Siding with the enemy? I see where your loyalties lie. You, sir, are getting banished to the depths of Cap’s computing devices. See whether you’re so quick to run to him for help after a few weeks of nothing but inane Google searches. The man doesn’t even realize you don’t need to write full sentences! It’s all ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”

 

“Good manners hurt no man, Tony,” an amused voice came from the doorway. Tony spun around to spot Captain America in full get up leaning against the door frame, cowl in hand. “Jarvis said you weren’t feeling so hot?”

 

Tony aimed his glare at the invader. “Lies! Lies and slander! Calumny of the worst sort! Betrayed by my very own. No honor among thieves and all that. I can’t believe Captain America would stoop this low, colluding with spies and traitors. Isn’t that against your vows or something? Kissing babies, apple pie, and staying loyal and true to the side of good?”

 

Steve shrugged, “What can I say? Even Captain America gets days off.”

 

“Speaking of which, why are you dressed like that? I didn’t hear a call to assemble.”

 

“Nah, I was out kissing babies and comforting the ill again. Have to racket up those points in my favor to cover slips like this one. What would people say if they knew I was as fallible and human as you are?”

 

“You, sir, were never as fallible as I am. You shit sunshine and daisies, and you will never convince me otherwise.”

 

“You caught me. How did you know?”

 

“Cameras in the bathroom. Jarvis sees all.”

 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind. But really, Tony, what’s going on? Jarvis sounded worried.”

 

“Jarvis is a mother hen and a tattle tale. I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure? You look pretty flushed, and you’re swaying.”

 

Tony made an effort to stand up straight, with limited success. “I’m fine. A-okay. The picture of perfection. Robert Downey Jr. just wishes he was as fine as me.”

 

“Sir has a temperature of 102.4,” Jarvis interjected.

 

Steve leveled a look at Tony. “That doesn’t sound fine to me.”

 

Tony squirmed under his gaze. “Don’t give me that look! It’s not fair giving me that disappointed face while wearing that outfit? How’s a man meant to fight back when Captain America is looking at him like he’s kicked a puppy.”

 

The look intensified, if anything, and Steve imbued his voice with all the sincerity he could; “Anthony Edward Stark, I’m afraid that Captain America is Very Disappointed in you for not taking better care of yourself.”

 

Tony tried valiantly to keep a straight face, but he’d never been good at straightening up or straightening out. Nor was he good at playing the straight man or playing a straight man. It just straight up wasn’t in his nature. “Dirty pool, old man, dirty pool.”

 

Steve shrugged. “I play the hand I was dealt. Wouldn’t make much of a strategist if I refuse to make use of the tools at my disposal. Now come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll ditch the uniform and we can curl up on the couch while you show me some godawful movie you’re absolutely convinced is vital to my pop culture education. Clint’s home, I bet he’ll be more than happy to join us so you two can mock me about my ignorance and quote lines back and forth.”

 

Tony wavered. That did sound awfully tempting. He shut his workstation down with a wave and a sign. “Fine, okay. You win. But there’d better be hot chocolate.”

 

“I think I can manage that. If you play your cards right there might even be soup and back rubs.”

 

“Sold! And no takesy-backsies. I’ve been promised back rubs and I demand back rubs.”

 

Steve smiled and threw an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “Come along, oh sick one, and you’ll see just how many concessions you can earn from us for your illness.”

 

Tony grinned back, “Square deal.”


End file.
